


Tantrums

by Arkiem



Series: Tantrums [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adult baby, Age Play, Bathing, Cuddling, Daddy!Steve, Diapers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Little Headspace, Little!Tony, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Parental Spanking, Spanking, Thumb-sucking, bottles, consensual age play, non-sexual infantilism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 17:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6817288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkiem/pseuds/Arkiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has found out that, in spite of his efforts, Tony tends to throw a tantrum every time he tries to prevent himself from slipping into that headspace he hasn't quite make terms with yet.</p><p>(According to chronological order: 4th Part.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tantrums

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wipe Your Tears Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3279998) by [SailorChibi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi). 



> Well, I've been reading all of SailorChibi's works here, and I just totally loved them. They kind of encouraged me to write a piece of my own. I'm quite not satisfied with the result, it's been a while since the last time I wrote a fanfiction, and well, language was a barrier here. English is not my first language, and while reading in English is kind of easy for me now, writing it is way a different story. So, I get the feeling that I couldn't express myself as well as I would've done it in my language. I have no beta or anything, so, if there's a sentence that is way too... weird, please let me know, I'd really appreciate it.

“This is the last time I’m gonna tell you this: Next time you interrupt me to offer me a fucking toast, I will disassemble you and I will throw your parts at a junk yard, got it?” Tony said, glaring at DUM-E WHICH kept shoving his arm with a plate. DUM-E got away looking as downcast as a robot could look. 

Tony sighed heavily and grabbed his cup of coffee, taking a sip of it. Cold. Why was it cold when he just poured it…? Four hours ago. OK, that’s why it was cold. He stood up, stretching, and walked toward the sofa he kept there for nonexistent naps – seriously, when he was working on something that kept him from going to bed, naps were the last thing on his mind, but if he had the sofa over there people thought he did rest and left him alone. Dropping down into the couch, he rubbed his temples for the umpteenth time that day, letting his eyes get closed and rest while he tried to calm himself down, the last thing he needed was a headache on top of all. 

Why the hell did the Board want an updated version of his StarkPhone? The one that had been released just a couple of months before was more than perfect. A StarkPhone Plus? Really? Were they freaking kidding him? Greedy old bastards, they just wanted more money and didn’t care if the customers were already satisfied with their phones. Seriously, they just wanted a version with a larger screen. What a…?! A larger screen? Even if they knew how bad the critical response was when other companies did the same with their products? He just couldn’t let his company take that road. He had to add something more than a larger screen to this freaking plus version so its purchase was worthy. 

But the Board’s requests weren’t the problem. Adding new stuff wasn’t the problem either, he already had thousands of ideas. The problem was he just couldn’t put his mind into it. He’d been locked in his workshop for more than…, actually he couldn’t remember how many days, but at least he was kind of sure it wasn’t more than a week. His cell phone was turned off. No alarms rang to summon him to SHIELD. Bruce was off to somewhere around Africa doing who knows what to ease his mind, so he didn’t share his space with anyone at the moment who could distract him. Even DUM-E hadn’t set his workshop on fire! He hadn’t had any distraction at all! And even like that, he hadn’t been able to completely concentrate! And that’s what was starting to give him a headache. 

Programming was something that Anthony FUCKING Stark could do while sleeping! And yet, he was coming across a lot of glitches he didn’t even understand why they were there, it was so frustrating. He didn’t know why he just couldn’t concentrate. Well, he kind of did, but if it was something he hadn’t wanted to deal with a week ago, so, obviously, he didn’t want to deal with it now either. He should have finished the prototype at least three days ago. Pepper hadn’t tried to get a hold of him yet, she always tried to give him enough space when he was dealing with one of the Board’s requests, but Tony was sure it was a matter of time before she started calling him because she couldn’t deal with the greedy assholes in the Board anymore. 

Determined to finish once and for all, Tony opened his eyes, but his sight was a little blurry. Maybe a nap wasn’t such a bad idea, it might clear his mind and let him see the root of those glitches. Nevertheless, napping on a sofa wasn’t an appealing idea. Contrary to popular believe, it wasn’t easy for him to fall asleep just anywhere, he was a millionaire for God’s sake, his body was more than used to sleeping on the finest mattresses. If he ever did, it was just because the fatigue had caused his body to shut down, and right now he wasn’t that exhausted, not yet. Perhaps if he had his ted… He shook his head angrily to get rid of that thought, clearly Anthony Stark didn’t need that, didn’t want that. He would stay there and try to doze for some minutes, just enough time to clear his mind and… 

“Tony… Tony… hey, wake up.” Tony came to reality slowly as he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking it carefully.

What time was it? He stared at the window while trying to figure out why there wasn’t any light outside when just some minutes ago there was daylight. Oh yeah, keeping track of the time wasn’t one of his skills when he was working himself until exhaustion. 

“Hey there buddy, are you with me now?”

“Wot?” He tried to ask, and that’s when he realized his thumb had somehow found its way to his mouth while he was sleeping.

Sitting down fast, he took out his thumb and cleaned the dried drool that was on the corner of his mouth. Damn it! Why was this happening again? 

“What?” He repeated the question, a light shade of red showing up on his face when Steve smiled at him, undoubtedly revealing what thoughts were crossing his mind right in that moment.

If Tony had felt happy about seeing Steve again after a week, that smile reminded him why he shouldn’t be glad of his return. Why he was mad at him. Why he didn’t want to be in the same room with him right now. 

“Let’s go and have some dinner. I’m starving” Steve said, without stopping smiling. 

All of a sudden, Tony stood up fast and made a beeline to his desk, vanishing any idea Steve might have had of him willing leave the workshop. He tried to pick up whatever he had been working on before dozing off, just an excuse to turn his back on him, he really didn’t want to face him right now.

“I can’t, I have a lot of work to do,” Tony stated, trying his best to look as he was busy with something. If he could just remember what that something was, his act would have been more realistic. 

“It can wait.” His voice sounded as if he was trying very hard no to show his partner that he was getting into his nerves. 

“No, it can’t. I gotta finish this today.” 

“It’s midnight already, you didn’t finish, so you might as well rest and keep on working later.” 

“I said I have to finish this ASAP and I intend to do that, so if you please excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

“Tony, I don’t want to state the obvious in here, but correct me if I’m wrong. You’ve been here since I left, and that was a week ago. And knowing you, I’m sure you haven’t gotten any decent meal or sleep all this time, so please, let’s go upstairs and rest.” Tony found himself facing a not-so-happy Steve, yet obviously trying not to show it in his expression. When had he moved in front of the desk?

“I’ve got work to do.” Again, Tony turned his back on him, pretending to be looking for something. 

“You can do it tomorrow… or later,” Steve suggested when he looked at his watch.

“No, I CAN’T! I have to finish this now. It’s my job, or you think everything you see here, everything the team uses, everything you use is paid magically?! Of course not, I pay for everything with the money I get from my company which happens to sell the things I do here. So, leave me the fuck alone once and for all! DON’T I KNOW WHEN TO STOP!”, his fists hit the desk in order to emphasize the last sentence. 

Needless to say, Steve never backed away in this situations, and Tony should have known this better than anybody else. He was about to turn around again to avoid his gaze, when he felt an arm being put around his waist and lift him with no effort at all. A whimper escaped from his mouth unintentionally, and before he could hold to anything, the blond man had already set him up on his shoulder, giving him a clear view of his rear, his hand kept firmly around his waist to prevent him from moving or falling. 

“What the fuck?! Put me down right now!” Kicking was never going to do anything to Steve, but at least he had to do something to try get rid of his grip. Steve didn’t even bother to answer. “JARVIS, close the door!” He demanded when he realized Steve started walking toward it. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you JARVIS, I don’t think Tony wants to get the glass replaced for the sixth time” Again, Captain America never backed away when he wanted something, especially when that something was making him leave the workshop. Tony hadn’t found a glass resilient enough to take one of the cap’s hit with his shield. 

Regardless how futile he knew it was, Tony kept kicking, hitting, yelling and swearing all the way to Steve’s floor, he wasn’t the kind who gave up that easily. He even attempted to hold onto anything that could prevent the captain from keep walking, but his strength was no match for his. The elevator’s doors wouldn’t close because his feet stood in the way of the sensor, and when Steve realized it, he got so distracted trying to move them out of the way, that he didn’t notice Tony pushed all the buttons, causing the ride to take more time than necessary. 

When they finally were in the middle of Steve’s living room, he dropped him on the sofa not in a very nice way, but not rudely either. Tony didn’t even hesitated to run toward the door once he was free, but the blond guy was already a step ahead of him. 

“JARVIS, lock the door, please,” Steve asked politely, wincing a little when he heard the noise made by a body bumping into a metal door. “I’m going to cook us something to eat. Anything special you would like me to make?” 

“JARVIS, what the fuck?! Open the fucking door now!” Tony totally ignored the question he’d been asked. “Damn you JARVIS, I think you broke my nose!” He accused the AI, a hand covering his nose. 

“No, I haven’t broken your nose sir, my sensors tell me it’s perfectly fine.” Was that mock on the AI voice? Why do all the things he invented always turn against him?

“JARVIS!! Open the fucking door!”

“I’m sorry Sir, but you could really have some rest before going back to the workshop.”

“OK, pasta it is. Yeah, I’m in a mood for pasta” Yeah, monologues were very common when Tony started to have arguments with his creations. 

“You fucking traitor! When did you start being on the side of the fucking national icon?! Open the fucking door right now or I swear I will turn you into a fucking alarm clock which can only be stopped if you destroy it!” OK, he was never going to do such a thing, and he knew JARVIS already knew that, but it was kind of frustrating that the AI always pair up with Steve in this situations.

“Tony, enough with the swearing. Why don’t you go and refresh a little while I cook dinner?... or is it breakfast?” Playing oblivious to his frustration and anger was just making Tony angrier. 

“This is my fucking house and I can fucking swear as much as I fucking WANT!” the only reason he screamed the last word was because he found out how hard the door was when in contact with a foot. 

There was a long pause, where Steve opened his mouth with the intention of saying something, but sighing heavily and rolling his eyes, he decided just to let this go and walk to the kitchen. He really didn’t want to lose his temper right now, and he was actually really hungry. 

“You’re just going to hurt yourself, you know. Quit that and go to take a shower, you really need it. Don’t be so stubborn.” Steve said, as he took the ingredients he needed for the pasta. 

His eyes lied on Tony, who continued kicking the door stubbornly. Come on, he was to one who built it, he surely knew he wasn’t capable of destroying it with some simple kicks. If stares could kill, he would be already dead, because Tony glared at him when he chuckled after hearing a whimper made his way out of his throat. The door felt even harder when punched. 

It was time to look for another exit, Tony decided, kicking and hitting the door clearly wasn’t working. Damn Steve for dragging him all of a sudden, he hadn’t been able to take his Iron Man remote, otherwise he would have destroyed the door very easily. He looked around and cursed himself for not having any other exit built, but how would he have known that he would end up being locked in here. Not even in his craziest dreams he’d imagine this situation happening. But good thing he was a genius, he just had to focus on finding another route of escape. A shame that his concentration was failing amazingly for the last previous hours. 

The vents were out of question, he would never be able to jump over there before Steve caught his feet to pull him down. There was nothing he could use to blow the damn door down. In his floor he might have some weapons hidden all over the place, but Steve being an expert in body combat, those items were kind of useless for him. Surely his shield would have to be somewhere there, but hey, messing around with a partner’s weapon was not something he did even if he was completely mad. 

There were some sofas, a coffee table, the TV, nothing he could really use to knock the door over. His eyes continued looking all over the place, until they laid on a chair, placed in front of the window. A chair could break the glass of the window. He could jump through the window and, well, he was aware he wasn’t exactly in the first floor, but he could ask JARVIS to send the armor and he was sure the AI wouldn't refute when the alternative of not sending it would cause his death. 

Shamefully, he never realized how dumb his ideas were when he was so exhausted. 

He grabbed the chair and smashed it into the window. Tiredness didn’t let him realize either how obvious it was that the glass wasn’t a weak one, being the Avengers and having a lot of enemies who wanted to kill them meant that he had gotten the tower built with the most resilient materials that ever existed. His anger just increased, and even if it wasn’t going to work, he kept smashing the door with the chair, until it broke. 

“QUIT THAT NOW!” Steve yelled from the kitchen and Tony just froze. It had been his commander voice. Steve never used his commander voice when they weren’t at battle. He never used his commander voice when they were in the tower. And he certainly never used his commander voice when he was with him unless he was losing his patience, which was saying a lot of him. 

After some more minutes of being frozen there, the armor bearer gave up and sat down on the floor next to the door, arms crossed in front on his chest. He hated how shaky he was feeling, he hated how Steve’s tone of voice could almost make him feel like a grounded child. He was starting to get into that headspace which he loaded so much, and exhaustion wasn’t helping at all. 

There was no way he was going to leave this floor until Steve made sure he had something in his stomach and at least five hours of sleep. Maybe Tony should take advantage of this and rest. He hated to admit it, but he obviously needed it. Even if he achieved to escape and go back to his workshop, he wouldn’t be able to finish what he was working on, and it was rather frustrating that he couldn’t have been able to remember what that was yet. 

But nothing was never easy when dealing with Anthony Stark. He wasn’t just going to give up. He knew this had nothing to do with whatever unfinished gadget he had over his desk. This was because he just didn’t want to face Steve right now. He was still mad at him, he did remember that, and staying with him would just lead him to do what he was successfully avoiding to do for more than a month now. He couldn’t let that happen again. He promised himself he wouldn’t do it again, and he had all the intention of being truth to his word. 

A hand on his shoulder made him jump for the second time that day. Apparently, he had dozen off again while trying to figure out how to get out of there. Was he really that exhausted? Falling asleep like that wasn’t that common in him even if he hadn’t closed his eyes for more than twenty minutes in a week. 

“Dinner’s ready. C’mon” Steve announced, gripping Tony under his arms and lifting him so his feet supported him, the latter still too sleepy to be able to restrain. 

The way to the table was all blurry, Tony was sure he did walk, but he wasn’t sure if his feet actually supported all his weight. It was until he was sitting down at the table that he completely awoke and all his bad mood went to the surface again. If Steve thought he had already won, he was more than mistaken. He wasn’t just going to sit down there quietly and have dinner like he wanted him to do. He stood up as soon as Steve went to fetch the dishes, walking fast to… well, there was nowhere he could go outside the floor, but at least he could hide. He deliberately ignored that inner voice inside his head that was murmuring him how childish his behavior was starting to be. 

When Steve turned around, carrying two plates with both of his hands, he sighed heavily as he looked that Tony’s chair was empty. Putting the plates on the table, he looked around in search of his stubborn partner, finding him in his way to the bathroom, was he really going to wash their hands for the first time by free will? He didn’t think so. 

“Where are you going? I said dinner was ready!”

“I’m not hungry!”

“Yes you are!” Steve said, as he hurried to grab him by the arm before Tony could lock himself in the bathroom. It was obvious that doors wouldn’t stop him from retrieving Tony, but destroying things unnecessarily wasn’t something he liked to do. 

Practically dragging him, Steve directed Tony to the table again, deliberately ignoring all the swearing. Tony surely wasn’t careful with language, he never had and he never would, but it was just in these situations when it got worse, when he was right across the line, otherwise he would try to get out of anything just by saying any of his clever quotes, not swearing like a sailorman. It wasn’t difficult to make him sit down again, and when Steve was about to sit down too, Tony stood up one more time, getting away from him as fast as he could. 

“Really, Tony, really?!” OK, now he was really starting to get angry. He was tired, he was hungry, he just wanted to have some dinner, take a shower and sleep. Was that too much to ask for?

Steve went after him again, this time faster, and literally carried him to the chair. He had to repeat this action around fifteen times. Did Tony really think he could get away from him when he wasn’t wearing his armor? He was a genius, he did know that wasn’t possible. He was doing it just to piss him off. And Steve was afraid it was working. Sometimes he ran as soon as he left him sitting down on the chair, sometimes he waited until he was all settled and ready to start eating. Sometimes he even pretended to take the fork to his mouth, before standing up and running. 

By the sixteenth time, the food had gone cold and Steve had already lost his patient. He tried to cool off by breathing slowly, and, not even bothering to drag him anymore, he put an arm around the other man’s waist and lifted him just a bit to carry him to the table. Tony surely wasn’t quiet or still during the process, but he certainly couldn’t do anything against Steve’s unnatural strength.

Only this time Steve didn’t place him on his chair, he went directly to his and sat down, placing Tony on his lap and keeping his arm around his waist to avoid him to leave. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Let go the fuck of me!” Tony said, kicking his legs, almost knocking over the table. Steve breathed heavily once more. 

“Stop this now Tony. You’re going to stay still and finish your food which by now should be cold, thank you very much.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not fucking hungry?! The serum really messed up with your mind, you retard, because you just don’t get it!” And now he was digging his nails into Steve's arm, seriously?

“Tony, eat, please.” The last word wasn’t necessarily pronounced politely. “And stop with the swearing once for all.” And the tone of his voice should have been taken as a warning, for the soldier was very patient, but his patience wasn’t limitless. 

But Tony being Tony, and in his stubborn mood being more Tony, decided to ignore the warning tone of Steve’s voice, and in the seconds when his anger was bigger than his logic, he took the plate of pasta in front of him and threw it right on Steve’s face. The plate fell down to the floor, breaking into pieces, and Steve’s face was left decorated with cheese, tomato sauce and some noodles. Now Tony did stay still, literally feeling how all color drained from his face. Regardless still being angry, he could realize he just screwed it up big time. 

On the face of it, Steve didn’t seem upset at all; but his eyes said otherwise. Tony gulped loudly when he was put down on his feet. He might as well could have apologized or something, but even if he opened his mouth, no words came out from it. Taking a napkin, Steve tried to clean his face as much as he could with it and stood up, shaking of all the noodles that were laying on his lap.

For a thousandth of second, he turned his head towards Tony, glaring. And before the latter could react, he approached him and dragged him to the living room, sitting down on the sofa and placing him over his lap. 

"No! Not like that!" Tony asked when he felt two fingers being tucked in his pants, pulling them down. He tried to avoid it, grabbing his pants with the hand that wasn't stuck between him and Steve, but the only thing he accomplished was having this hand pinned to his lower back. 

The first spank fell almost immediately, causing him to yelp in surprise. He was expecting Steve to start lecturing him as he usually did -clearly this wasn’t the first time he found himself lying across his lap- but he didn't. The second spank was delivered right after the first one, and then the third one, and the fourth one. Tony failed to chock back a whine, even if he wasn't a fan of lectures, they helped him to focus on something else than the swats, and that somehow helped him to get through the whole situation in a more dignified way, for Steve’s voice avoid his brain to just concentrate on the pain and the stingy sensation on his butt. 

By the tenth swat he was already gasping for air and fighting some tears treating to fall, his legs kicking more because of his reflexes than for the intention of escaping, which was, well, impossible. Sitting at the table and having dinner would have been so much better than this, now he started to feel stupid for not doing that since the beginning.

Twenty-five spanks. That was it. He was never delivered with more than twenty-five. And that was more than enough, Steve might not spank him with all his strength, but he didn’t go light on him either. By the time it finished, tears were falling freely on his face and he was breathing heavily. The captain helped him to stand, pulling his pants up right away and placing him between his legs to prevent him from trying to get away. 

"Can we talk now?" The blond one asked, getting no answer because Tony was more focus on cleaning the tears with the back of his hand. "I asked you something, Tony." this time he got a nod as an answer. "I'd like a verbal answer, please." And this was the part Tony hated the most when he wasn't lectured while being spanked, because like that he could take the situation as an excuse for not giving answers and not facing him at all, but a lecture after the spanking meant that Steve wanted him to pay complete attention, and that was so difficult when he just wanted to curl on a corner and ignore reality for a little while.

“Why are you still mad at me?” Steve asked, and when he got a shrug for an answer, he didn’t hesitate to land his hand again on his partner’s butt, who yelped. “I told you I want verbal answers.”

“I… I don’t… don’t know,” Tony mumbled.

“You don’t know? Look Tony, I get it. I know we had an argument before, but it’s been a week already, we shouldn’t hold grudges like this.” As he said this, Steve put a finger under Tony’s chin, lifting a little so they could look at each other in the eyes. “You know, I should be the angry one here, Tony. You know how I feel about the go-to-bed-mad-at-each-other thing, and yet you hid yourself in your workshop when I was about to leave, I tried to get a hold on you for a whole week, and you never answered to any of my phone calls. And even worse, you stayed in your workshop all these days and I’m pretty sure you got nothing but coffee and none sleep, when I’ve asked you thousands of times not to do that. And then I arrive, I go to look for you, I keep back my anger, and I ask you politely to have something to eat and rest with me, and what do you do? Huh, what do you do Tony?”

“I-I got wo-work to do.” Yeah, that was the lamest excuse Tony could think of. 

“You know better than anyone that that’s not an excuse. So, what do you do? You ignore me, you don't face me. You make me drag you out of your workshop so I can make you do something you should do by yourself. And I was patient, I really was, but then you go and throw that tantrum-”

“I don’t throw tantrums,” Tony interrupted him, and he really didn’t mean to pout. 

“Yeah, because everybody goes around kicking doors, breaking windows and running away from the table.” Steve let himself chuckle this time. 

“I didn’t break the window.” Really, Tony just hated how childish and insecure his voice sounded. 

“Because you couldn’t, but not for the lack of trying… but anyway, that’s not the point now. The point is, why do you always have to make me do this? Why do we have to end up like this?” Steve asked, putting his hands on Tony’s hips in order to keep him in balance, because Tony’s legs were supporting less and less of his weight, and he was sure he wasn’t even realizing it. 

“I don’t.” 

“Then why you never do the things I ask you to do right away? Why do you fight this so much? You just get moodier and start doing things that are not good for yourself. I just don’t get it, I’ve told you I’m perfectly fine with this, why don’t you believe me? Huh?”

“I don’t want this.”

“You don’t want this or you don’t want to want it?”

So many questions were giving him a headache. Tony just wanted Steve to stop. He just wanted the get the hell out of there, because the more time he spent there, the more he wanted just to bend over and hug him, to bury his face on his chest, feel his arms around him and listen to his voice very close to his ear, murmuring reassuring things. And Steve must have read his thoughts, because before he could even react, he was settled on his lap again, only this time he wasn’t facing the floor. Immediately, he hid his face against Steve’s shoulder, and silently thanked when Steve spread his legs so his butt didn’t have to be the one supporting the weight his body. 

“Oh Tony,” Steve said guilty, hugging him tightly and rubbing a hand on his back. “This is the only part I don’t like doing, so please stop being so stubborn and let’s go to rest a little. How does it sound, Huh? Kiddo?” Steve talked to his ear and he knew Tony was relenting when he just nodded and clinched his hands to his t-shirt. 

Steve would have liked to stand up immediately and get them both ready to bed, but when he tried to move, Tony groaned. So, he just stayed there for a little while, enjoying the moment, cooing him and rubbing his back waiting for him to stop calm down. Steve was sure Tony would throw another tantrum when he saw the diaper and bottle he would pull out from the drawers, but this would be more like a fuss than a tantrum, much easier to deal with. And it would totally be worthy when he placed him on his lap one more time and Tony fell asleep after being feed with some warm milk. 

“I love you, kiddo," Steve said, smiling when Tony pressed himself more against him.


End file.
